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2.11: Doors

The scene comes into focus, the actor’s silhouette flickers right and left as the two gunmen open fire, bullets ricocheting all about. Breathing is difficult, the pain from the wound intense. The construction site is blurring in a haze of cordite and panting breathe in the cold as the opening is reached.

“Run, Will!”

Blink, and scenes dissolves away to reveal new actors, the set replaced with a cheap checker linoleum floor and 70’s white shelving units in a countryside kitchen. An electric red votive light shines under a picture of Jesus that hangs above a doorway. Her lip is already starting to swell from the blow, tears clinging to her eyelashes as she holds back the emotion. A heavily set man is grabbed by his wrinkled shirt and thrown towards the door.

“Get the hell out of here! We’re better off without a father!”

The portrait shakes with the impact, the red light burns brighter until all that remains is the LED, which begins to blink on the computer as it runs a program. A man rushes to check his wallet is full before departing out the door. Blink and he is standing with a gun raised against his temple. A flash and all that remains is the crimson.

“He was my friend.”

Dulling now, to a rosewood shade, staining the cream white suit of a man slumped against a concrete wall. Years of unwavering service have led him here. The sound of rain outside, rattling the rusted corrugated iron somewhere unseen. It does not enter the cell, it does not wash away the stains inside. A note with a list of names is slid under the door. The first two are crossed out.

“Maybe I’ll ask him.”

The paper is covered in text. The newspaper is folded under the arm of a man in a khaki jacket. Beside him, another actor holds a small potted plant. They turn and walk out the door, the light outside engulfing them both. The sounds of fans whirr in the silence.

“This isn’t going anywhere.”

The monitor tones continuously. Her lip isn’t swollen now, but the tears remain at the edges of the eyes. A nurse approaches through the entranceway. An actress lays motionless in hospital bed, while the other lurches a few times until breaking down. The bed shakes, the monitor blips for a second. A stomach twists and the tone returns.